


Colors and Noise

by AudibleEllipsis



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 17:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudibleEllipsis/pseuds/AudibleEllipsis
Summary: It's been a very long time since the last Visitors came, and that time has begun to wear.





	Colors and Noise

Mary’s steps had begun to slow. Her hands shook, though she did her best to steady them. She unbuttoned her cuffs, then rebuttoned them. Tugged at her neck tie, then set it back into place. Made folds in her dress, then smoothed them over. She tried to focus on the feeling. The small tugs. Dry fingers over smooth fabric. But, it wasn’t enough.

Her chest trembled, eyes trailing the ground. One step after the other. That was all that mattered right now. If she could stay together just a little while longer, her patience would be rewarded. Good girls waited, didn’t they? She swallowed. Breathed. Did her best to breathe. Tried to smile. But, it was all too hard. Nothing felt right. Her steps were too loud, weren’t they? Why were they so detached? Why did everything feel so far away?

Her feet hurt. Soles worn to nothing. She pulled on her dress some more, but found touch was dead to her. Every hall twisted to become the same. An infinitely long path she’d never reach the end of. She kept walking, and color bled away, dripping down to reveal nothing but black. It was cold, and what little breath she managed to keep billowed out.

She looked up, finally, and found herself in a place she didn’t recognize. Every step echoed still, somehow louder, pounding against her head. She had to stop. Needed it all to end. Shadows played in the corner of her eyes, still figures slowly crowding behind her. Mary turned, and faced things she couldn’t know weren’t there. Atop bodies of loose shadow, the blurred faces of dozens of visitors stared back at her.

“Please.” Her voice was quiet. Desperate. “Please, come back.”

They didn’t answer. What had they sounded like? Why couldn’t she remember? Had it really been that long?

“Please.”

No answer. She gripped at her fake rose, and shouted, despite the ache in her head.

“Please!”

Every one of them smiled, and began to crowd around her. Too wide. Too happy. Like there was nothing else to be.

Her instincts screamed at her to run, but she was just too tired. Her backward steps stuttered, and she tripped on nothing, falling hard. But, when she crashed, there was no noise. Her hearing was shot. The tell-tale buzz of flickering lights above was gone. Her breath, the pulse in her ears, all gone. Mary pressed up from the floor with shaky arms, trying to train her eyes on the ground again, but it was gone too. Her eyes flicked from place to place, trying to find a shred of the familiar home she knew, but, there was nothing. Nothing but black, and the visitors. Suddenly, one of them spoke.

“Why?” The voice was cold, but she recognized it. He was the first one. The kind man that had taught her about opposites.

“... Why?” She repeated dumbly, not understanding.

“Why would we ever come back?” The fourth. A dark-haired lady who taught her how to sing.

“Because… I miss you.”

“No you don’t.” Another, tone disgusted. He’d been rude. She remembered hating him.

“I do!” She shouted. “I-I miss you, and--” Her words became muted.

“Maybe, but that’s not it.” A young girl. Like her. She missed her a lot.

“You should…” Mary hesitated. Something was crushing her chest. “Because…”

“Why?” They all asked in unison.

“BECAUSE I NEED YOU TO LEAVE!”

“Because you need us to die?” They asked, judging.

She reached for her fake rose, struggling to move even the short distance away. To stop existing was every work of art’s greatest fear. For a visitor, someone with a world so beautiful to lose, she imagined it was even worse. She clutched the rose close, and tried to breath again. Tried to go home. Then, another voice cut her every thought to shreds.

“Mary.” One she wished she knew better. Not a visitor, but the first thing she’d ever heard. Ever saw. A man in a white, button-up shirt and brown slacks parted the shadows, and kneeled. “I’ll be with you.”

The words were burned into her memory. They were the only things she’d ever heard from her father. She wanted to cry, but knew tears couldn’t come.

“But, Father… I can’t… be with you.”

“Can’t you?” The visitors asked. Their voices had become hideous whispers, closer than she’d ever want, and the figures began to close the distance. Mary backed away, kicking off the ground and skittering as far as she could before hitting a wall that didn’t exist. They inched nearer when, suddenly, she felt something again. Something tugged on her dress.

She looked to her right, where it was, and saw one of her dolls, looking scared. The floor beneath it was a soft lavender, carpeted and not at all like anything else around her. It took Mary a few moments to understand. She quickly reached out to pick up the doll and hugged it tightly, closing her eyes. The whispers drew nearer, but she knew she was safe now. The doll did its best to hug her back, and made some pathetic noises. It was a while before Mary opened her eyes again, but when she did, she was in a long purple hall, with a distinctive end and beginning. A door, and a corner.

Slowly, her breath returned, and some of the ache in her chest went away. She was tired.

“I’m… going to rest a while, okay?” She asked the doll. “When I wake up, we can play whatever you want.”

The doll smiled wide, stretching its stitchings, and ran off. A seam in its neck was undone, and it lost a bit of stuffing on the way. 

Mary picked up the fluff, tucked it away, and flopped to her side. She cupped her hands and laid them beneath her head, staring up at the buzzing panel of clean white light above. Slowly, the buzzing faded. Slowly, her eyelids grew heavy. And soon, she was asleep. 

* * *

When she woke, Mary found not one, but ten dolls sitting around her, each one uniform in azure color and wiry hair. She was only able to tell her little helper apart by its still missing seam. The painted girl smiled, and beckoned it over, gingerly picking it up once it came close enough. She pulled the stuffing from her pocket and pressed it back into place, rounding out the doll's cheeks. It smiled just a little wider.

“Were all of you waiting for me?” She asked. The dolls nodded. "How good of you. So patient." She pat a few on the head and looked back to the one in her hands. “Well, what do you want to do?” It simply pointed to her. “Whatever _I_ want, huh?” It nodded again, more enthusiastic.

“Well…” She thought a while. It was lucky that the doll who came to help her was different somehow. The Ladies and Individuals all had their own dresses and nails, but the dolls had nothing. “How about… if I made dresses for you all? So you can be more like everyone else!”

She probably could’ve said anything and the dolls would’ve been happy, but Mary liked to think the smiles on their faces made her an excellent caretaker. The one in her hands climbed onto her shoulder, and she giggled. “Okay, okay, you first. How does something pretty and pink sound?” She didn't have to look to know it was excited.

Dolls in tow, Mary made her way to the supply room, scolding them when they became too excited and ran out in front or between her legs, almost making her trip. From there, everything blurred. The day became nothing but vibrant colors and games. Hide-and-seek and the steady sound of a sewing machine at work, with more dolls coming together to try and make her happy than she knew the Gallery even had. She may not have had her father, but for now, Mary had the Gallery. 

And, for at least a little longer, that was enough. 

But, when everything settled. When the noise and color died away, and silence returned, Mary couldn't help but wonder how much long it would be before it wasn't. How much longer it would take for the next visitor to come. 

That night, Mary didn't have any nightmares. She didn't lose herself, or become cold again. But, she wondered how long it would take before she did. 

That night, despite all the company around her, Mary slept alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary has a line when leaving Ib behind in A Painting's Demise where she says Ib was her first friend, but also talks about other visitors. I've always found that really interesting, and wanted to touch on that.


End file.
